Finding Friends
by Jaayman
Summary: Carolina and Agent Washington, following the evac order requested by the Reds and Blues, arrive on board the Staff of Charon to a bloody frigate, cluttered with bodies and wreckage. The freelancers don't find their cheery friends, but instead, grim shadows morphed by tragedy. I'm new to Fanfiction, so please, leave any and all constructive criticism in the comments! Tips too!
1. In Pursuit

Chapter 1

Agent Washington had been staring at the floor of the chopper for some time now. Several thoughts clashing in his head, but above the commotion of Hargrove's location, the still vivid images of the blood washed battlefield he'd left the army of Chorus to deal with, and the nagging feeling that something was wrong, he felt a complete and utter concern for his friends. Friends. The thought forced a small chuckle out of the freelancer.

Carolina took notice of Wash's humorous indulgence as she walked back from giving the Reds and Blues coordinates to the pilot in the cockpit of the cramped pelican. It always felt familiar being in these flying ships, even more so with Wash patiently waiting in the cargo hold, just like he used to when they were still freelancers.

"What's got you in such grand spirits? Riding the high of victory?"

Carolina sat next to Wash, the two of them harmoniously neglecting the safety harness Dr. Grey had commanded the soldiers of Chorus to wear while she performed her physical.

"We just took down a corrupt private military of space pirates, and here I am worried about the guys. I should be riding the high, I just can't seem to hold on."

Wash responded with the humility he'd felt moments before dwindling into deep concern, then gradually building up into anxiety until he turned to Carolina for an answer.

"Why haven't they sent out any message since the radio in for evac?"

Carolina looked down slowly, then perked up.

"Maybe they're… preoccupied?"

Bitters, who'd been leaning against the back door of the cargo hold, seemed to have lost interest in the tussle of calming Jensen down from flying and had been listening in on Washington and Carolina's conversation.

"Preoccupied with whatever weapons, soldiers, and other bastards are on board that ship," Bitters spoke absent-mindedly, not realizing the situation he was feeding into.

"Thank you for that, Lieutenant Bitters."

Carolina spoke sharply, staring daggers at Bitters, who verbally fumbled to correct his statement.

"I mean, these guys took down Project Freelancer, right? I'm sure they could handle a few goons and some alien weapons. They have before, right?"

Bitters didn't speak to Carolina, but instead to Washington. Nonetheless, Carolina seemed to relax in her seat, turning her attention from Bitters back to Wash.

Palomo took notice of the conversation and broke away from soothing Jensen long enough to speak.

"Totally! You should've seen Tucker in battle today! He pulled out his sword, and was all 'swoosh-swish-stab'-ing on these guys."

As Palomo spoke he began miming out the movements of Tucker's energy sword, becoming more and more absorbed in it, until he seemed to have lost all interest in the prior conversation.

Carolina turned to Wash and put her hand on his thigh plate, looking squarely at his visor, trying her best to ignore Palomo's poor pantomime of the battle.

"The guys are alright. I promise. They've survived worse, and I'm sure they can handle whatever Hargrove has onboard for them. So just relax, Caboose will be hugging you in no time."

Wash looked up at Carolina, making a deliberate attempt to relax his posture as best he could.

"For future reference, mentioning a bear hug from Caboose probably isn't the best way to get me to relax."

Carolina chuckled, and leaned back in her seat once again perfectly calm. "That's what I like to hear. I do love watching you squi-"

Carolina was interrupted by the pilot calling her to the cockpit as they pulled onto the Staff of Charon for a landing.


	2. Touching Down

Chapter 2

The entire ship seemed empty. Almost quiet, if not for the dying roar of the pelican as the soldiers stepped out onto the landing pad they'd carefully selected. Wash gave the deck of the ship a cursory glance and grumbled to himself.

"It's… quiet. I figured we'd be shot down on entry, but to not have a platoon of soldiers firing when we land is out of character for the chairman. I wonder if he gave up?"

Carolina's posture clearly conveyed her guarded nature. To her, the ship being this desolate was almost annoying, like a prodding thorn.

"Keep an eye out. These mercs have a knack for coming out of nowhere."

Carolina and Wash continued on, leaving the chorus troops guarding the ship with Dr. Grey and the pilot. As the two wearily pushed past fallen ammo crates, overturned ships, armored bodies, and all manner of bullet holes piercing metal, it became more and more clear that there was a fight here.

"You think the guys did all of this?" Wash spoke as he pulled a scrap of bullet-ridden metal from the ground, "I mean, I knew they had begun improving in combat, but this is… I don't know what this is. " He said tossing it aside.

Carolina surveyed the damage to the deck and turned to Wash.

"These soldiers were a private security force of Charon, not unlike the resistance we encountered. How did the guys manage to take all of these men out?"

Pushing forward to the bridge, Carolina met a blast door which stood proudly in front of the entrance to the ships navigational tower. Turning back to Wash, who was still processing the carnage behind them, Carolina snapped loudly to grab his attention. Wash jolted out of his blank stare, and immersed himself back into the situation at hand.

"Blast door. All of the ships blast doors probably shut after the alarm went off when they tampered with the mantis controls. Any ideas for getting through?"

Carolina chuckled and looked at Wash quizzically.

"I thought you were supposed to be the one who knew locks?"

"Locks are one thing. This is an entire ships security protocol. I'm not exactly picking into a storefront."

"Think you could do it?"

"Maybe. If I had some time."

Wash began fiddling with the control panel to the right of the blast door as Carolina began pacing behind him, scanning the wall for any point of entry.

She hadn't done much scanning before Wash interjected, interrupting her train of thought.

"No way am I getting in, not here at least. Not only is the security protocol a bitch to get through, but it looks like I'd have to use the terminal on the other side of the wa-"

Washington was interrupted by a streak of teal revealed by the slow lift of the metal door.


	3. Familiar Faces

Chapter 3

Carolina stood still. Almost frozen. The door had opened, and there stood the guys, but she could immediately sense the anguish that had washed over the simulation soldiers. Carolina would've assumed she was standing in front of Maine, if not for the signature teal and posture which Tucker so fondly carried. Wash looked back to Carolina, then shot his attention to the Reds and Blues.

"Tucker, why are you wearing Meta's armor? What happened?"

Tucker didn't respond. Keeping his head hung low, he sauntered towards the Pelican, incapable of pulling up his cheery attitude under the immense weight of what had just occurred. As Tucker wandered past Wash, Wash quizzically turned to the others, assessing the injuries his friends boasted sourly. Simmons had been shot in the right shoulder, Grif was bleeding heavily from his left forearm, and Sarge limped out in front of them, his leg pierced by what looked like shrapnel.

Sarge's gruff voice pushed over the low hum of the frigate's engine.

"You see boys? I told you that we'd be fine."

Grif looked from his arm to Sarge, quip-ready at the hip. "Fine? FINE?! Collectively we've lost enough blood to fill another goddamn person!"

"He's right Sarge," Donut spoke cheerily, "and trust me, I know what it takes to fill up a man."

"To top it off, our best option for recovery is Doc!" Simmons chimed in, too distracted by his aching shoulder to worry about disagreeing with a superior.

"Can it, numbnuts," Sarge spoke directly to Grif, then turned his attention to the whole group. "Now where is our good doctor at, anyhoo?"

Doc shuffled forward, unscathed physically, but his hesitance in his movements was a surefire sign of something deeper. Pushing past Donut, who had begun earnestly comforting the uncharacteristically still Caboose, Doc pulled gauze from his belt pouch and began working on Simmons tentatively.

Sarge looked to Wash and Carolina, who both stood still, waiting for any of their questions to be addressed.

"You, uh- you like what we've done with the place? The redecorating took a little bit, and my men took some hits, but I think the new red paint is an excellent fit."

Carolina's silence was broken by an uproar of curiosity from her racing mind, "Sarge, how in the hell did you all take down an entire ship of trained soldiers?"

"And what's wrong with Tucker? Why is he wearing Meta's armor?" Wash had chimed in, seeing that now was the time to ask questions, grasping for reasoning he finished his survey with, "What happened?"


	4. Stumbling Stories

Sarge began casually explaining the sequence of events from which the battle took place.

"With some guidance from that old Freelancer AI, we went on up to the mantis control room, and deactivated them, but we got pinned in the room by a few squads of soldiers. Then, BOOM! Church found Meta's armor in the systems computer and whatnot, Tucker put it on, and we had ourselves a fight."

Caboose had broken away from Donut, and walked forward, making his way out of the door as the others had while Sarge was explaining. Gradually, Sarge's long-winded explanation became background noise to the blue soldier, as he shifted his weight forward step by step until his path to the Pelican was cut short by Lieutenant Andersmith, who stood in perfect salute of his captain.

"Hello, Sir! Quite a successful victory wouldn't you say?"

Caboose returned Andersmith's cheerful greeting with a sniffling hug. A reaction the Lieutenant was not prepared for, as Andersmith staggered backward slightly before regaining his composure and returning the sign of affection, breaking his usual military etiquette.

"Sir, are you alright?"

Caboose peeled himself from the soldier, and began his trek towards Tucker, leaving Andersmith standing stunned at the sign of affection he had just received. Tucker was sat very uncomfortably on a crate underneath the Pelican's wing, his back shielded from the rest of the group by the airships body. With his helmet buried in his hands, Tucker looked to be shuddering from a distance, but as Caboose got closer, he heard sobbing and understood. Caboose sat next to him, and looked to him solemnly, gently patting him on the back before pulling him into a loose friendly embrace.

"Sarge, slow down, where's Church? " Wash had been forced to cut off Sarge's dramatic rendition of the battle by his need for clarity, "Let us talk to him."

Sarge looked awkwardly at Simmons.

"You um-" Simmons winced as Doc pulled the gauze tightly around his shoulder, "You should talk to Tucker."

Carolina could tell that something was off. This wasn't like them. They should be cheering and laughing, giving each other shit, comparing injuries. They all survived. Why weren't they being the guys?

"Fine." Carolina began stomping off but turned back as Wash began following her. "Wash, you stay here, I'm going to check with Tucker and Caboose."

"You got it. Let me see what I can pull from this terminal, I might need some mechanical help from-" Wash stopped talking and looked around quizzically, "Hey, wait, where's Lopez?"

"He's busy keeping our very good friend Mr. Hargrove company. That boy knows how to keep a man tied down! I had him built just for that purpose! That way, I could have Grif tied up for target practice anytime I want to! Eheh!" Sarge slapped Grif hard on the shoulder, sending him tumbling toward the doorframe.

Grif caught himself, but immediately clenched his right hand over his forearm and turned to Sarge "Could you not, jackass?!"

"Oh quit your complaining."

Wash gestured for Doc to tend to Grif now that he had finished up with Simmons. "Wait, why is Tucker wearing Meta's armor?"

Simmons shuffled out of the door, and the rest spilled out with him. They all settled in to recover. Sarge stood leaning against the wall of the tower, watching Doc carefully tend to Grif, who was sitting comfortably on a water crate. Simmons hobbled past Washington, who stood in the center of it all and sat next to Donut on a torn pelican wing opposite the others.

"I don't really know. Church said it was the 'last piece', and it sure as hell came in handy. It was pulling bubble shields, going invisible. If I'm correct, the experimental versions of Freelancer tech Church and Carolina were using on her suit, must've all been on that model."

"It was damn near unstoppable," Grif spoke in an effort to distract himself from Doc sewing up his forearm. "Bouncing bullets and shit."

"So that's how you guys were able to take on the entire crew by yourselves. Meta's armor was your secret weapon."

Donut perked up. "Oh please, I've taken on an entire crew before!"

"The suit definitely helped us get out of the control room, but we probably wouldn't have been able to make it out of there alive without Freckles and all of us fighting, and the help of my trusty shotgun."

Simmon's nodded in agreeance with Sarge, and looked down slowly, a realization washing over him. "The suit is useless now though, without an AI to run it."

Grif felt similar anguish wane his smile. "Yeah…"

The air stood still for a moment, all that could be heard was the wind of the upper atmosphere whipping the soldier's armor and Doc humming to himself as he tended Grif. Wash raised his head, realizing what had just been said. Wash turned sharply and looked at Simmons, speaking carefully, trying to mask the tremor of fear in his voice.

"What do you mean 'without an AI'?"


	5. An Explanation

Carolina wasted no time marching towards the pelican she had seen Tucker and Caboose saunter behind, but her path was blocked by Andersmith.

"Good Afternoon, Ma'am. May I take a moment of your time?"

"Not right now, Anderson."

"Andersmith, Ma'am, and please," his voice dropped its formal tone, "It's about Captain Caboose."

Carolina stood still, she could just see a sliver of thick blue behind the jet engine of the pelican.

"Go ahead."

"Thank you, Ma'am! Er- Captain Caboose, he hugged me, just now."

Carolina scoffed at her failure to realize this was a waste of time beforehand.

"Caboose hugs everybody, Smithingtan."

Andersmith was somewhat flustered, struggling to find the right words.

"Andersmith, Ma'am, and that's just it. It wasn't really a bearhug. He didn't say anything, Ma'am. Just kind of put his arms around me; I thought he was going to cry. Is he okay?"

Carolina leaned to her left, looking past Andersmith and focusing on the streak of blue she'd noticed earlier.

"That's exactly what I intend to find out."

Carolina pushed past Andersmith, but stopped short of the pelican engine and called into the cargo hold.

"The Reds have wounded Dr. Grey, please go take care of it before Doc makes it worse."

As Carolina walked past the jet engine, she heard an inhuman excited squeal radiate from inside the pelican, which normally would've set Carolina off, but she was far too focused. She turned the corner to see Caboose and Tucker resting next to each other. Caboose's strong figure was hunched, his head hung low, and Tuckers had his buried in his hands, Meta's helmet sitting beside him, gleaming in the sunlight.

"It's okay, Tucker. We'll see him again. We always do. I promise."

Caboose was trying to bring an iota of good spirit back into his friend, to no avail. Tucker had stopped crying, but his eyes were still puffed and his demeanor hadn't changed much. Carolina could see that he was in serious pain.

"Tucker? Caboose?"

Caboose turned around, startled by the sudden addressal.

"Misses Carolina!"

Caboose took off from his spot next to Tucker, and Carolina had just enough time to see Tucker turn, wipe his eyes and swallow his sorrow before being tackled by the 6' 4" man. Carolina often forgot how strong Caboose was, but was acutely reminded of it as Caboose somehow managed an intimate hug between two full suits of body armor, at the cost of Carolina's spine and ability to breathe.

Carolina was tempted to just punch the soldier off, but she was just happy that one of the guys was acting normal. She tried her best to return the hug, but with arms pinned by her sides by the giant Teddy Bear's iron grip. Still, she managed to wrap her left forearm around Caboose's back. When she began struggling, he pulled away, and so did she, but her glove had a sticky pull from his back armor plating.

She looked at her glove. It was a crimson red. She grabbed Caboose's left shoulder and spun him around, counterclockwise. Caboose's back was layered in a thick coat of blood, seeping from what appeared to be pieces of a fragmentation grenade in his left shoulder blade.

Tucker spoke about it first, having seen it before Carolina spun Caboose.

"Caboose, you need to go see Dr. Grey. Now."

"What? Why?"

Carolina assessed his back. These weren't ordinary shrapnel pieces. They were glowing, Carolina figured a teleportation grenade had splintered and Caboose had caught the blunt end of it.

"These aren't ordinary shrapnel pieces. Caboose, I'm serious. Go see Dr. Grey."

"But- I want to stay with Tucker."

"CABOOSE! NOW!"

Carolina's rise in tone was more than enough to spur the soldier into motion. He took off for Dr. Grey and the Reds.

Carolina turned to Tucker.

"How did none of you notice that?"

"Dude, Doc did a full evaluation of all of us. That wasn't there before."

Carolina's anger melted into a sincere chuckle at hearing Grif release a very audible, "GODDAMMIT!" as Caboose approached the other group. Then it shifted back into concern. By this point, Tucker's face had mostly returned to normal. All that was left from his emotional break was slightly red eyes and tear tracks that tore through the grime on his cheeks.

"Tucker, what the hell happened? Actually, Church! Get out here right now."

There was silence. No flashing AI. No quip at the ready, or sarcastic comment to throw.

Tucker looked down at his feet, and Carolina could see his eyes begin to water again.

"No…"

"We were trapped in the Mantis control room. Church found Meta's armor hidden in there with us. He had me put it on. Said it was our last shot at getting out of there. I didn't know…"

"What happened to him?" Carolina made her way to Tucker and plopped down next to him, putting her left hand on his right shoulder. "Where is he?"

"The Suit… it was too much. We didn't know. Church couldn't run it. He-"

"Tucker, tell me what happened."

"Here. See for yourself."

Carolina's HUD notified her of a request to accept an incoming audio file from Tucker's hard drive. She looked at Tucker, slightly cocking her head in confusion as to what the audio file was meant to be. Warily, she opened it.

"Hey guys, if you're hearing this, it means you did it…"


	6. Coming Home

"So, what happened? An epic laser fight? Badass slow motion grenade throw?"

Palomo rattled on, barely stopping to breathe.

"Will someone please shut him up?"

The entire cargo hold turned to face Hargrove, who'd been tied to what was once a fire extinguisher holster on the rear bay wall. Sarge was glad he had volunteered to watch the chairman as the butt of his shotgun struck across the chairman's left jaw.

"My men will speak when they want to."

"Goddamn right, Sarge."

Washington stood over the Chairman, feeling a dwelling livid anger he'd not felt since he was implanted with Epsilon.

No. Not "Epsilon". Church - my friend.

Washington's inner reflection on his companion was vaguely conveyed in his posture. His once teeming, watchful character melted into something sullen. Church's last words rang through Washington's head, ear to ear, like a bullet trapped in an endless internal ricochet.

Wash turned to his rear, facing everybody, and more importantly, away from the chairman. Grif and Simmons sat next to each other, having what seemed to be a very intense discussion. Wash couldn't hear all of it, but caught a snippet here and there.

"No way! Dude, you can still control minds!"

"Yeah, but Grif, only fish - when your fifteen miles from water! It's so pointless!"

Wash chuckled to himself for a moment. Grif might be - well is - the laziest soldier of the bunch, and Simmons is definitely the biggest kiss-ass he's ever met, but Grif and Simmons banter always reminded Wash of the way he used to talk to York. It never failed to make Wash smile, but he always wondered if Carolina ever felt the same way with any of the guys. Wash looked over to her for a moment, zoning out the conversation he'd focused on.

Carolina had sat herself in an empty seat next to Tucker, her helmet placed by her feet, mimicking Tucker who had done the same. They were both resting their arms on their knees, all their weight tucked into the feet they had planted firmly onto the floor of the pelican. Carolina was sitting close to him, but not uncomfortably so, just reassuringly. Neither was speaking. Tucker's sudden miraculous capability of "Shutting the hell up," as Carolina had asked of him so often, seemed to worry more than ease her attitude. Wash decided that their silence needed to be just that, and refrained from intruding on their nonverbal conversation.

Washington smiled to himself thinking of Carolina's small signs of affection, and turned back to monitoring Hargrove. His turn was interrupted by a soft orange glow illuminating the cargo hold. Everyone turned to its source.

Dr. Grey had managed to give Caboose enough morphine to at least relax the titan of a man when she came at him with metal tools he described as, "grabby and cold." As she worked on his back, Caboose was still as he could be. He whimpered every now and again, and squeezed Doc's hand; who was sitting next to him tentatively. Doc said he knew how to get Caboose to cooperate with any medical procedure. Whatever it was, it worked. Although, Caboose refused to take off his helmet, saying it made him feel safe.

As the orange glow rose from his back, Dr. Grey pulled her tools away, and raised an eyebrow. She had taken her helmet off for better precision with her tools. Her short brown hair was tied into a simple ponytail, her freckled cheeks rising as her eyes widened and narrowed on Caboose's back.

Grey's adorable determination didn't go unnoticed though. Sarge seemed more focused on watching her than keeping Hargrove in check. He followed her every move, tracing after it with his helmet. Her green eyes reflected the orange glow in Sarge's visor, and his usual strong, cut "guarding stance", as he had described it to Grif and Simmons, cascaded into an adoration and bliss.

"This is fascinating…"

Hearing Dr. Grey's comment, Tucker perked up, paying attention to the conversation, but not daring to ask a question and start a lecture. Thankfully, Bitters felt a need to know.

Bitters peered over Caboose's right shoulder, and his entire body recoiled.

"Why is his back glowing?"

Tucker stood up immediately, his face twisting into concern.

"What the hell?"

The Reds and Blues marched towards Caboose, the Chorus troopers keeping close behind them.

Soon, the glow faded, and a look of fear twitched across Dr. Grey's face, breaking Sarge's trance.

"We need to get back to Crash Site Bravo. Now."


	7. Medical Mishaps

Offloading the Pelican of all passengers was a blur. The Chairman was escorted to a holding cell as the troops on Chorus awaited a response from the UNSC, Caboose was immediately strapped into a gurney upon landing and carted off, viciously pursued by Wash and Tucker to the medical tents where Dr. Grey had arranged a makeshift emergency surgery station. The Reds scattered into the resounding cheer of Chorus troops all desperately thanking and congratulating each of the simulation troopers, and Carolina found herself trapped by the crowd. Immediately, she thought to use her jump boost to get over them but snapped back from the thought. It's too dangerous to run without an AI.

 _Without an AI._

There was a point in her life where Carolina would have welcomed a fight without AI assistance, where the challenge would excite her. A chance to prove herself. The only time she ever wanted an AI was to prove herself better than Tex. Her mind rang as she looked into the crowd, and after her surroundings melted, she found herself standing in Armonia. Church stood in front of her. The day they abandoned the city.

"You're Agent Carolina! You don't need special equipment. You're already the best!"

With a shudder, the memory faded, and she was still standing there, the crowd still remained clustered around her. She didn't have time to ponder how real what she just saw was, or to worry about why it happened. She needed to make sure Caboose was okay. She pushed her way through the crowd, towards the medical tent, stopping in front of it, hearing familiar voices with a few murmurs emanating from the opposite side.

"Well, fucking yank it out!"

"Tucker, we can't just tear out shrapnel. Especially considering we don't know if it's bound to anything important."

"That's bullshit!"

"Captain Tucker, the teleportation grenade fragmented into Captain Caboose's back but wasn't active when it did so. It appears that now, it was activated, likely by our meddling with the Temple of Armaments. I can only operate on the shrapnel while it's there for me to operate on."

Carolina entered the tent.

"What do you mean "when it's there"?

"Oh! Agent Carolina! I'm so happy that you made it. We just sedated Caboose. He'll be out for a while. It took a lot of coaxing to get him to submit to an anesthetic. Agent Washington managed to convince Caboose to agree."

Carolina looked at the blue soldier on the operating table. Well, it wasn't really much of an operating table, as an empty shipping crate that just happened to meet the length of a standard soldier. Caboose was no ordinary soldier though, and his feet dangled off the end of the crate. It was easy for Carolina to forget how tall their man-child was.

"Are we gonna do something about this or what?!"

Tucker was boiling over, and his outburst was only inevitable. Tucker slammed his fists on the crate Caboose was on top of, and just stood there digging his fingers into the sides of the crate with an iron grip. Carolina and Wash looked at one another, an unspoken conversation being had between their visor's. Agent Washington nodded towards Carolina and reached a hand onto Tucker's shoulder

"Tucker, let's go find the reds. Simmons might be able to help with this."

Tucker shrugged off Washington's hand and spoke very plainly.

"No. I'm not leaving."

Agent Washington's hand rose again to Tucker's shoulder.

"Tucker, we should really-"

Tucker shot himself around, staring down Wash.

"I'm not losing him too!"

As Tucker spoke, his voice broke despite his best efforts to hold it steady. A tremor of raw emotion was seen in Tucker's trembling fist, and Washington stepped backward.

The room stood still. Carolina and Wash looked to one another, unsure of how exactly they should handle this. Neither had seen Tucker emotional before, much less this irate because of it. Thankfully, Tucker broke the silence first with a sigh.

"We'll go find Simmons. Carolina, if anything happens, you come get me first."

Carolina wouldn't usually take orders from Tucker, but this seemed to be an exception.

:" Yeah, of course."

With that, Wash put his hand on Tucker's shoulder, and the two ducked out of the tent, leaving Carolina, and Dr. Grey standing there equally rattled.

"Oh my goodness! I had no idea Tucker actually cared about him. Given all the insults, and pranks… and the shooting."

Carolina quizzically looked over Caboose, as his back began seeping out that soft orange glow. As soon as Dr. Grey had noticed, she sprung into action, tearing out pieces of shrapnel from Caboose's back as quickly and carefully as she could. As the glow lightened, no longer illuminating the tent, Dr. Grey put her tools down and tore her helmet off. Carolina followed suit, the two standing over Caboose with no helmet on.

Carolina glanced over Caboose before speaking, just to admire him for a moment. It was easy to forget that Caboose was only 26 in all this madness. Young, and firmly built. His helmet had been removed for reasons beyond Carolina's comprehension, she could see his wavy brown hair poking out in all directions. He had explained it to her as "just a little helmet hair" once. His mouth was open, and he was slightly drooling, but just under his lip, she saw his right canine poking out. Look slightly further up, she could see his eyelids moving. Unfortunately, they were covering Caboose's sharp and vibrant green eyes that Carolina had at one point admitted to Wash she was rather fond of.

"Agent Carolina?"

Agent Carolina stopped admiring her friend and turned back to his injury.

"You said that you can only operate while the shrapnel is there. What do you mean?"

Dr. Grey furrowed her brow trying to think of a way to explain it.

"Well, it seems that whatever Caboose was struck with is a similar sort of technology to the teleportation grenades Charon was manufacturing. Tucker said he thought he'd seen Caboose get hit with shrapnel in the fight, that a 'delta' categorized it as a life-threatening injury. No idea what 'delta' is, but that's about all I know. Simmons seems to know the most about Charon's tech, so we might need him to explain it. If I had to parse together a theory, I'd say that he was hit with the broken pieces of a teleportation grenade."


	8. Painful Memories

Simmons was standing still in the caves at Crash Site bravo, Grif sitting on a crate behind him, and Sarge leaning up against a wall, his legs flat on the ground. The "room" was relatively small, but that was mostly because the cave jutted inward like an attic. Outside of that it was relatively wide and long. After being congratulated, Grif decided he had been high-fived one too many times for his injured arm's liking, and hobbled up to this perch where he had radio'd Sarge and Simmons telling them to do the same.

"You seriously chose a cave? A crusty cave? What if there are snakes in here, Grif?"

Grif looked up from his bandage that he had been slowly peeling backward out of curiosity. His look of admonishment for his injury quickly faded and his face resumed the sarcastic scrunched look it usually carried.

"Where the hell else is there to go? The rebels and feds are lodged up in every nook and cranny in the canyon! You're lucky I invited you here."

Simmons look around the cave, thinking silently.

"What?"

Simmons looked to Grif, who had noticed Simmons in thought. Grif had recently begun the practice of interrupting Simmons' train of thought so he couldn't say anything stupid; however, this time it seemed to fall short of it's goal.

"I hope Caboose and Tucker are okay."

Grif paused for a moment, having not expected such a sincere sentiment to come from the maroon soldier. In an attempt to deflect confronting the issue, Grif thought of a witty retort.

"Getting soft on us now huh, Simmons? Sarge probably won't like your concern for a blue."

Sarge simply grunted from where he was sitting in the corner, back against the flattest part of the cave wall, trying his best to work through the pain in his left leg. Dr. Grey had administered morphine, but that was hours ago by now. Sarge definitely needed more but was far too prideful to ask.

Grif turned back to Simmons who hadn't taken the bait of Grif's comment. Soon, the orange one bound himself up from the crate, moving towards Simmons and plunking himself down next to the maroon soldier.

"Look, Dr. Grey is gonna take care of Caboose. We'll have the toddler back in no time, alright?"

Grif spoke almost as though he was inconvenienced, but there was a touching sincerity in his voice that calmed Simmons just a bit before the real issue welled over his lips.

"I don't mean with the injury. I mean about Church."

Grif and Sarge looked at each other for a moment.

"Yeah, that boy isn't quite right without his buddy," Sarge spoke between breaths as he slid up the cave wall, "but he's got Carolina and Wash to keep him company. Even Tucker, though, that feller ain't always a pleasurable pal."

Simmons looked down at his feet, then back at Sarge. Carefully, Simmons descended into a seated position next to Grif, trying not to move to quickly and hurt his shoulder.

"I guess." Simmons began dawdling his fingers as he spoke, "It's just that-"

"Simmons! Where the fuck are you?!"

Tucker's voices bounced up the cave walls, alerting all of those who hid in it.

Simmons head shot up before he called out a response.

"We're in here!"

Simmons, Grif, and Sarge all looked towards the cave entrance, expecting to see a soldier in blazing teal. Instead, they heard the call of an annoyed and sarcastic Agent Washington.

" 'In here' isn't exactly a location! Just come out here!"

The group of red soldiers looked to each other, and with a collective exasperated sigh, heaved themselves up and hobbled towards the cave entrance.

As they moved forward, Simmons noticed Sarge's walking stiffen a bit. Sarge would move forward a few paces, then stop and stabilize his balance on the cave wall as he raised his injured leg to rest before repeating the process all over again. Simmons nudged Grif, and pointed, and without words the two hoisted Sarge up onto their shoulders. Each had slung an arm of Sarge's over their back, grabbing it with their opposite hand and pulling slightly to raise Sarge up. With Grif and Simmons aiding in motion, Sarge's body weight became a much more bearable load for his nearly crippled leg.

As the squad moved out of the cave, the light from the sun was almost blinding. Wash and Tucker stood in the midst of quite a bit of ruckus revolving around them. Tucker and switched from Agent Maine's armor into the standard issue set he'd had before. There were soldiers of both the Federal and Rebel armies making merry and drinking happily. Cheers and hoots of rejoice were heard throughout the canyon, a most isolating sound for those who'd just lost Church.

"Well, took you guys long enough." Tucker spoke mockingly frustrated, his humor and demeanor seeming to slowly slip back into his role.

Grif perked up at Tucker's sass, and returned it in kind, saying " 'Out here' isn't exactly a location."

Washington heard the insult that had been aimed at him, but was far too focused on assessing Sarge's injured leg from a distance.

"Sarge, you need to go the medical bay. That leg isn't looking too good. Here, I'll walk you to a vehicle and get you over there. Tucker, walk Simmons to the surgery."

Sarge looked up at Wash, too beaten down and in pain to refuse medical attention to "protect his masculine pride" as he had explained upon getting off the pelican when they arrived.

Simmons handed over Sarge delicately, watching Wash walk off with his commander to a nearby warthog that a few fed soldiers were jumping on top of in a drunken stupor.

"Wait," Simmons turned back to Tucker, "Why do you need me for surgery?"

"Yeah," Grif slapped Simmons playfully on the back, causing Simmons to wince as Grif grazed his wound, "Don't know if you noticed Tucker, but Simmons isn't exactly a huge fan of blood and guts and stuff."

"You're not operating, dumbass." Tucker looked from Grif to Simmons sternly, but his posture relaxed fairly quickly as he spoke more, "I wouldn't trust you to watch a disabled goose. Dr. Grey just said she needed you. Something about the glowing things in Caboose's back. She said it might be Charon tech, and that you know the most about that stuff. We really don't have time to sit around and chat all day. Can we walk and talk?"

The two remaining red soldiers agreed, and followed Tucker on either side as they pushed through the partying towards the medical tent where Caboose was. As Tucker walked, he noticed there was a soldier missing among them.

"Where's Donut? Didn't he head off with you two after we left the pelican?"

"Huh." Simmons took a moment to look around, "I thought he was with us."

"Nah." Grif spoke up from Tucker's right side, "Donut wanted to go party with the feds and rebels. And I think Lopez is at the vehicle bay. Some fed asked if they could borrow him to attempt repairs on the alien vehicles, and see if he could bring the mantis' back online."

Tucker simply nodded, his cheer dropping again. As Tucker's mood faded away, so did his surroundings. When he looked to his right to inquire about why the soldiers were trying to bring the mantis' back online, Grif wasn't there. Instead Tucker was met with a strange sight when he returned to gazing straight forward.

Church stood in front of him, next to Sheila. The two were bickering about something or other, and as Tucker took a moment, he examined exactly where he was. It was Blood Gulch. Pale sand and rough grass all around, directly behind him was the blue base, with Caboose on top, loading crayons into the sniper rifle per Tucker's request.

"Hey, Tucker you listening to me?"

Tucker snapped his view back to Church, an unfamiliar bliss at seeing his friend again overcoming him. Tears welled behind his visor, but when Tucker spoke, the words weren't exactly his.

"Yeah, I'm listening. Hey Church, so that robot body you've got was made to fix stuff for the red team, right?"

Church took a moment before answering. "Yeah, why?"

Tucker was screaming internally, trapped behind his helmet. He wanted nothing more than to rip it off and hug his friend, but still the conversation continued casually.

"Could you maybe turn on that 'fixing mode' and fix Sheila?"

Caboose's head popped out from atop the base, he looked between Tucker and Church.

"Did one of you say Sheila?"

"Yeah," Church heaved out a long exasperated sigh before looking up at Caboose, "We're trying to fix her for you, buddy- hey, are those crayons?!"

Caboose noticed that he'd been holding up a handful of crayons in his right hand, and in his left, the barrel of the sniper rifle that rested vertically in plain sight of Church and Tucker. Little bits of wax and paper were easily visible at the end of the barrel, and it became apparent what Caboose had been up to.

"Goddammit!" Church started up the ramp to the top of blue base, "Caboose, if I have to strip and clean crayons, or ice cream, or mayonnaise from another gun, I'm going to strangle you!"

Caboose ducked out of sight, dropping both his handful of crayons and the sniper rifle with a thud. All Tucker heard as Caboose made his escape was a faint "Tucker did it!"

Tucker snickered, and his world began spinning. Desperately, he tried to cling to this reality, reaching out to Church's waning figure. Still, he was torn back to Chorus, his arm still out, reaching for his friend.

Simmons and Tucker stood about 5 feet in front of Tucker, looking back at him with cocked heads of confusion.

"You uh-" Grif spoke warily, "You alright there buddy?"

Tucker dropped his arm, and looked at both of them, an emotional episode building in his chest. Tucker knew if he spoke too much, he'd lose his composure and begin weeping, so he instead shrugged it off.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Even three words of dismissal put immense pressure on that ball in Tucker's throat and wet his eyes. It was difficult to swallow, his breathing was shaky and bated. With a shudder, as if he could shed the experience, Tucker pushed past Simmons and Grif, once again taking the lead and walking towards the medical tent.

"Come on. We should get there quickly."

Even a task as small as escorting Simmons to Caboose's surgery was enough to distract him from what he'd just experienced. Grif and Simmons looked to each other quizzically for a moment, trading confused soulful glances before falling in line and once again sauntering towards the medical tent.


	9. Forgotten Luck

Carolina and Dr. Grey were standing on either side of Caboose, looking down at his back in a cocktail of awe and worry. Still, Caboose lay perfectly still, aside from the heaves of his massive chest. Carolina had now completely taken off her armor, and Dr. Grey stepped away from the table to do the same. Neither Carolina or Grey had spent enough time at Crash Site Bravo to become familiar with it's annoying temperature habit. Simmons and Grif had remarked on it at one point, saying the crashed and dismembered engine from the fallen transport heated the Red's side of the canyon to a blazing temperature.

Dr. Grey popped off her chest piece, and began unzipping her body suit, revealing the white tank top she was wearing under it. Without the constrictions of the body armor, Carolina could clearly see that Emily wasn't exactly a very well-endowed woman, sporting what looked to be maybe a b-cup, but was definitely a muscular one. Emily had a very lean figure, and it was clear that she might not be supremely strong, but was probably quite cardio advantageous. Which would explain her smaller breast size. Still, Carolina was a little shocked at the size of Dr. Grey as Emily continued pulling off armor and laying it on the ground next to her.

Dr. Grey was not a very tall woman at all.

It was easy to forget that Emily was just a civilian before all this; never meant to dawn the bulky Mark V Battle Armor that made it's owner a few inches taller and a few inches wider. Carolina estimated that Dr. Grey was maybe 5' 5" at most; with boots on.

As the last of Emily's armor was removed, Carolina saw exactly how Emily compensated for the lack of meat on her chest. Since the body suit worn under Mark V acts as skin tight leggings, Emily didn't bother taking them off or putting anything else on over them. Just skin tight black. Carolina actually felt a little jealous for a moment as she realized that she may have a competitor for Tucker's "favorite ass". The fact that she even thought about it made her realize she had probably been spending too much time with him.

Carolina forced herself to make eye contact with Dr. Grey, realizing that she had been gawking for a moment. Apparently, so did Emily, as her freckle speckled cheeks turned a bright vermillion. Even her somewhat small nose succumbed to the attention, matching the shade of the rest of her face.

"It is absolutely scorching in this canyon!" Emily spoke with her usual cheer a bright attitude, trying to move on from the intense eye contact her and Carolina were having. "I wonder what's causing it."

With that, Dr. Grey was lost again to the infatuation and curiosity of her own mind, and Carolina was left shifting her attention from the now mumbling doctor to Caboose.

Caboose's chiseled cheek bones and cutting jaw could just barely be seen over the side of the crate. A bead of sweat trickled down his face from his deep brown hairline. It passed around his eyebrow and straight down his cheek. Truly, he was a beautiful man, though by far the most frustrating one she'd ever met. Carolina actually took a moment to reflect on all the times she'd seen him out of armor.

It was a rare occurrence for Caboose to be out if armor, likely due to where he grew up. Over the course of their friendship, she kind of pieced together why he was the way he was. Most of her information came from Church and Tucker rather than Caboose because he's- well- he's Caboose.

Carolina knew that Caboose grew up on a very rare type of moon with a strong gravitational pull, but a relatively weak atmosphere. Because of that, Caboose built incredible muscle, as he essentially grew to a towering 6' 4" under what is comparable to five times Earth's normal gravity. Only downside was the weak atmosphere meant there wasn't a whole lot of oxygen to go around, likely resulting in brain damage for the poor boy. Now that Carolina thought of it, it actually made sense that Caboose wouldn't feel very comfortable out of armor.

Caboose probably spent most of his life in a helmet to accommodate the lack of oxygen on his home moon, and he always said he felt "safer" in there. Then it struck her that she feels the same way. Carolina always felt better, more like herself in armor because she's lived most of her life in it. Carolina chuckled a bit at how vastly different the similarity was.

"Hmm?" Dr. Grey perked up from her pacing, facing Carolina while lightly chewing on the knuckle of her index finger, "What's funny?" Dr. Grey dropped her index finger and grinned widely, flashing her slightly crooked teeth, "Think of a Dad Joke?"

"Just Caboose, he's uh…" Carolina realized that there was no real way to explain the strange thought to Dr. Grey without ruining it for herself, "It's nothing."

Dr. Grey widened another crooked grin before all color washed from her in a moment. Her eyes widened, and she rushed over to Caboose, a look of pure panic spreading across her face and draining her rosy cheeks.

"What?" Carolina stood more tentatively over Caboose as Dr. Grey began working, "What is it Emily?"

"His armor!" Dr. Grey began tugging at the latches on Caboose's armor, peeling off any piece she could immediately, "He must be burning up! He's probably dehydrated at this point. Look at how much he's been sweating!"

Carolina actually did take a quick look at Caboose's head. The single bead of sweat she'd observed earlier was now accompanied by a barrage of others all moving rapidly down his face. Carolina lightly stroked his head with her hand, pulling it away quickly as it moistened.

Dr. Grey seemed genuinely concerned about Caboose for a moment. Her psychopathy and cheery attitude lost their place in her deep concern for her patient. Carolina swiftly followed lockstep, but being a soldier who has experience with removing this armor, not to mention the vast difference of strength between her and Emily, Carolina could nimbly pull off every latch quite easily.

First, Carolina removed the plating on his left arm, and for a moment questioned exactly how Caboose fit his bicep into the armor to begin with as his muscle sort of spilled out over his front plating. The skin tight bodysuit was standard issue, and the black sheen of it gave Caboose's arm a much more lean definition than she was expecting. Again, she tore her eyes from admiring him to work on saving him. By the time Carolina had finished removing all plating on Caboose's arm, Dr. Grey had just barely managed to begin removing the shoulder pads. All manner of armor pieces were clanking to the ground as the two were desperately and methodically trying to rescue their friend.

Carolina set to work on his legs. Thankfully, the legs could be done at the same time, and Carolina made pretty quick work of the thigh plating. Carolina pulled a scalpel from the table next to her, and began unscrewing the calf plating as both she and Emily had done before.

The calf plating was always a bitch, as it was on of the more reinforced portions of the armor. Carolina remembered York explaining it to her at one point. Something about it being easier to run with an injured thigh than an injured calf. The memory of York was now lodged in her mind, and it stung a piercing dagger into Carolina's heart for a moment. Still, she pressed on, taking both legs off entirelt. Carolina looked to Dr. Grey's progress and realized that they needed a new plan of attack.

Dr. Grey was struggling to take off the armor plating on Caboose's hip, and was blushing just as deeply as before everytime she grazed the codpiece. For all Emily's confidence and intelligence, she wasn't in control of this situation, and her face showed it.

"Dr. Grey," Carolina spoke firmly, an iota of command and control ringing in the undertones of her voice, "You need to go find an IV. Caboose has already lost a lot of blood, and we can't afford to let him be dehydrated."

Dr. Grey simply nodded and took off, leaving Carolina to dismantle the rest of Caboose's armor by her lonesome.

Carolina unlatched two side hooks to the hip piece, the curved metal protruding upwards as the springs pushed it. Carolina knew the next part needed to be done, and began flicking at the switch on the underside of the codpiece. Luckily she hit the tiny button, and the rest of the hip piece slid right off Caboose's legs like a pair of exceptionally stiff underwear.

Carolina knew that she needed to get his shirt off. The male bodysuit was designed to be more rigid and metallic, creating a looser fit at the benefit of defense. It was heavy, and dense as all hell, but Carolina pulled it over and off Caboose, carefully trying to avoid his injury.

The blood was like oil on her fingertips. Carolina never particularly enjoyed the medical training she'd received. She wouldn't say she was squeamish, just that she preferred not seeing blood inside the body, as she thought she'd seen enough of it; and the last thing she wanted to see was Caboose's blood.

After Carolina had gotten the shirt up high enough over his shoulders on his backside, she realized she couldn't pull it off while the front of it was under the weight of his chest. She took off her light blue undershirt and after applying some disinfectant balm around the cuts on his back, Carolina draped her shirt across Caboose's back, and began tentatively rolling him over.

She tried tugging at the weighted shirt from the angle left of the crate where she'd been working, but didn't have enough leverage to pull it out from under his head. Without even thinking about it, she straddled Caboose's limp body at his waist, and began lifting. As she pulled, she couldn't help but be slightly distracted by how incredibly firm his chest was. Still though, he had his little "ice cream pouch" as he'd lovingly described it in great concern of losing it upon being told to run laps.

Finally, Carolina managed to lift his head long enough to yank the shirt from the soldier and throw it to the side. It landed with a thud, and Carolina hopped off the crate to roll Caboose back onto his front.

After she'd done so, she realized that she was standing completely shirtless and sweaty in the tent. She instinctively took her shirt from Caboose's back, but quickly decided against putting it on as the balm she'd applied earlier trailed after it, leaving it a soggy scrap of cloth.

Hastily, Carolina looked around the tent for something to wear. She settled on a purple tank top with a dried blood stain on the side. It had been discarded into the corner of the tent, likely as Dr. Grey was trying to patch the very injury that had stained the shirt.

Carolina looked down at the deep purple, and the color of it paired with the neon green light of the medical equipment surrounding it forced North into her mind.

That crazy son of a bitch.

With that thought a splitting headache overtook Carolina, and she tumbled to the floor, seeing a domed energy shield surround her and the pelican she was on top of as an incoming wave of nuclear energy consumed them.

Carolina knew this scene. She'd lived it, but still there was something off about the way it was playing out. After examining her surroundings for a moment, Carolina figured what was making her feel uneasy.

The world was still.

Well, almost. The explosion was still in the midst of engulfing them, but it didn't move as quickly as it had the day prior. The cloud of fire and flame was slowed to a creep, slowly swallowing the energy shield rather than devouring it. The shield itself wasn't cooperating with the laws of motion either. It's signature rotation around its user was dropped to a point that it looked to be a perfect, unmoving projection.

It was as though the world had exponentially slowed its movement.

"We're running out of power!"

Carolina looked to her right to identify the source of the child's voice. A flash of purple blinded her vision.

Was that… Theta?

Carolina couldn't dwell on it as another voice sounded in her left ear. Her head snapped to meet a buzzing green.

"We should divert power from all non-vital armor enhancements."

There was no doubt this time, that was Delta speaking. She could see his bright green figure hovering next to her left knee. Upon seeing him, she brought her line of sight over to that blue-ish purple glow. Theta was standing there, suspended in the air next to her right breast plate. Then he came.

A pulsating iced blue poured from all sides of her visor. It seemed to glow and fade with every word spoken.

"Theta, shut down her healing unit and route all excess power to her shield, Delta-" Church was cut off by Theta's pleas. The two bickered for a brief minute. Carolina sighed deeply, overjoyed at hearing Church's voice; but when she opened her mouth to speak, no words found their way.

"Her leg isn't stable enough! We could hurt her-"

"Theta!" Church raised his tone, causing a digital black to seep into the icy blue, something he rarely allowed to happen with the innocent boy. Church calmed his tone upon seeing Theta's terrified reaction.

"Theta, we need her stabilizers to keep her anchored to the pelican. We need to keep this pelican in the air. Please, buddy. Just trust me?"

With a nod towards Carolina's visor, Theta broke into digitized pixels and sifted into her armor. Just as swiftly as Theta had gone, Church materialized in front of Carolina's visor. Church's holographic visage looked around the domed shield. He watched the explosion move across it and patted the hips of his armor as he muttered something about the guys seeing this. Church's attention was grabbed by Delta, and he shifted his suspended position to face him.

Carolina didn't bother following the action, or to look where Church had pointed, but instead fixated her gaze on her friend who stood before her. A scream erupted from her throat, but not a sound was heard. Her eyes were screaming, begging for his stare to meet hers; for him to just be there in the reality she was to be forced back into. If Carolina could give anything to go back and relive that last day with him, she'd do it.

"Delta," Church pointed down to Carolina's left, "Power the shield and stabilizers. Keep us in the air."

"Church," Delta spoke as calculated as ever, but a trickle of emotion echoed in his voice, "We're not capable of maintaining this level of stress for any prolonged period of time. You are aware of this?"

As Delta spoke his voice sounded almost hopeful, the last word spoken having a disheartening hilt upwards, as though he was expecting Church to reveal some master plan to soothe his worries. Instead, Church looked solemnly at the Pelican, then to Carolina.

"I know." Church sighed as he rested his holographic head on Carolina's visor, "Hold out for me Sis..."

Time regained it's normal composure, and the explosion snapped from a third of the way across the energy shield to completely surrounding them. The combustive gases glaring sp sharply into Carolina's visor she welded her eyes shut, retreating as far back into her helmet as she could.

Then it all stopped.

Carolina popped open her left eye and looked around. She was dissolving back into her surroundings, looking up to a hazy vision of Tucker and Simmons in the doorway of the tent. The very sight of which sent another shockwave through her head. The piercing ringing forced her sight into darkness as her head fell into the dirt floor of the tent with a thud.


End file.
